


Unfortunate Consequences

by Brego_Mellon_Nin



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-06
Updated: 2012-08-06
Packaged: 2017-11-11 13:35:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/479091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Brego_Mellon_Nin/pseuds/Brego_Mellon_Nin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape has had enough of Harry and Draco bickering constantly and decides to force them to take a Friendship Potion. It has some unfortunate consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unfortunate Consequences

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, this plot has been used and used again, and then a few times more, for good measure. But I couldn’t resist...
> 
> **Disclaimer:** I do not own anything Harry Potter. I am merely playing here.
> 
> **Warnings:** Slash (male/male lovin’), underage, and silliness.
> 
> Thanks a million to my prereader Simply Matt and my beta Mrs. Agget. Don’t know what I’d do without you guys! :D

**Unfortunate Consequences**  
  
It was January 19th and all of Hogwarts was buzzing with excitement. The gossip girls had really outdone themselves today. Maybe this day would even be part of a future edit of Hogwarts: A History. It certainly seemed to be worthy of mention, most students thought.  
  
It all started when the potions master came hurtling out of his classroom with a look of utter horror on his face, robes billowing furiously. Normally, he was careful to keep his sneer in place, and never before had any of the students seen him so disheveled and flustered. He ran as if he was being chased by a whole pack of blast-ended skrewts and almost bowled over a few Slytherins in his hasty retreat.  
  
The two Slytherin third years that had witnessed his exit without suffering any collisions, let their curiosity get the best of them and peaked into the classroom. They squealed and also made a hasty retreat, closing the door firmly behind them and casting a few locking charms. This was sure to be the best gossip they would ever get their hands on, and they giggled frantically as they scurried off towards the slytherin common room to relay the news.  
____________________________________________________________  
  
 _Two hours earlier._  
  
“ENOUGH! Potter, Malfoy, you will stay behind after class!”  
  
The bickering died down immediately and two pairs of eyes, one grey and one green, stared at the Potions Master in shocked disbelief. He’d never lost his temper like this when Malfoy was involved. He usually turned a deaf ear and hid a smirk whenever the blond boy tore into Potter, taunting him for his lack of potions skill. Today however, a few select bits of information had been thrown around that could very well blow into a huge argument where delicate information could slip in the heat of it.   
  
The Potions Master had no intentions of letting it get that much out of hand, since the Potter brat had recently learnt a few compromising facts about him that was something he did not care for the whole of Hogwarts to discover. The brat had been silent this far, and though Snape did not mind Malfoy’s bullying, today’s bickering had taken an unfortunate turn and could very well have resulted in a slip up. Merlin knew Gryffindor’s Golden Boy had a short temper.  
  
The Potions Master smoothed his robes while pondering the catastrophic event a few days prior, where Potter had unwittingly reversed the effects of the _Legilimens_ he’d cast and took an unwilling tour of his professor’s mind. He’d seen some bad childhood memories, but Snape knew that Potter was only too familiar with that and he didn’t worry about that getting out. No, what he was worried about was a few select glimpses the prat had caught of Severus’ painfully embarrassing encounters with the opposite sex. He’d seen a fumbling, insecure, blushing Snape, stammering at a girl laughing her head off at the sallow, greasy haired boy in front of her. She was mercilessly pointing a finger towards his very limp manhood, which had refused to rise to the occasion, so to speak.   
  
Another memory was of a woman ranting at him for being the lousiest lover she’d ever had. That had also revealed itself to Potter. Snape cringed inwardly at that memory. He’d really tried his best, but apparently still been found wanting.  He’d shoved those memories to the far back of his mind and did his best to forget about them. He’d locked them in an imaginary closet and tossed away the key. But still, they’d resurfaced at once when Potter had reversed the intrusion of his mind. It made sense actually, since Snape had been focussed on digging out the boy’s most embarrassing memories, that when it was thrown back at him, it would immediately sniff out his own horrid memories and expose them to Potter. It was probably the universe’s fucked up way of saying ‘what goes around comes around’.   
  
It wasn’t until much later in his life Snape discovered that he preferred the company of his own gender, and he had been infinitely more successful in his endeavors with other men. Fortunately, the prat hadn’t reached those memories before Snape had managed to toss him out. He shuddered at the thought of the brat being able to spread around the school that the greasy Potions Master was a flaming ponce.  
  
As it was, the dimwit had more than enough blackmail material, but of course the noble Gryffindor had not resorted to such methods. So, when the day’s Potions lesson had turned into one of the usual bickering matches, Snape had hovered nearby to intervene if anything turned in the wrong direction. Malfoy, being a Malfoy, had delved into every weakness he saw, and the infuriating brat had pounced when a relatively innocent sentence had made Potter blush a deep dark crimson. It was something about impotence and even though Snape didn’t hear it all, he had no trouble figuring out that any mention of impotence would bring Potter right back to the memory he’d seen.  
  
The brats had continued hissing at each other and in the end, Potter had looked like he was about to explode and Snape simply couldn’t risk it. He had to find a way to eliminate these silly arguments, at least in _his_ class, where Potter was more likely to spew the truth about _who_ , exactly, was the impotent one. A plan had formed in his mind and once he’d been certain it was the right way to go, he’d put it into action.  
  
__________________________________________________________  
  
As the rest of the class filed out, Potter and Malfoy remained in their seats, scowling and pouting like little children. Of course, that’s exactly what they were, but at fifteen they should both be well aware of normal social conduct, and behave accordingly, Snape thought. He walked towards the boys and towered over Potter. He was still slightly uncomfortable about punishing his godson, but if he was honest with himself, he knew that the only one who could get such a rise out of Potter was Draco, and therefore he knew, that he had to stop the boy taunting the Potter brat.  
  
“You will be brewing a friendship potion _together_ and you are not leaving until you’ve made it to my satisfaction. You will be polite and cordial to each other during this time and by the end of your detention, you will each receive a dose of the potion. I will _force_ you to be friends for a day. I am most disappointed that my classroom turns into a warzone each and every time you two come in here. I am doing this to make you see that there are other ways for you to behave. I will not tolerate any excuses and if I find either of you employing any of those atrocious Wizarding Wheezes to skive off, I will deduct so many house points that you will be drowned by your own best friends! Is that understood?”  
  
Snape glared unrelentingly at the two gobsmacked boys gaping at him. Obviously, they’d not been expecting anything more than polishing cauldrons or cutting flobberworms. Malfoy started sputtering but his godfather only gave him a stern look that was so close to a perfect imitation of Lucius’ most deadly glare that the boy instantly clamped his mouth shut and sighed in defeat.  
  
Both boys started, very reluctantly, to prepare for the brewing and Snape flicked his wand, making the instructions appear on the blackboard. A long time passed in silence, Potter and Draco only communicating with glances, pointed fingers, and gestures. Ah well, at least it was peaceful while it lasted.  
  
When one and a half hours had passed, Snape looked up to see both boys looking at him expectantly, standing beside a cauldron emitting a slow, curling light blue smoke. Almost the perfect color, he noted. Ah well, with Draco in on it, it could hardly fail to turn out decent.  
  
He stood and walked forward to peer into the cauldron. The texture of the potion was flawless and the color indeed very close to perfect. Snape nodded curtly and placed two vials on the desk beside the cauldron and then walked back to his own desk. When neither boy moved, Snape threw them a threatening glare.  
  
“Do you fail to comprehend what those vials are to be used for, Mr. Potter?” he sneered.  
  
Potter narrowed his eyes, but wisely didn’t respond.  
  
“Decant the potion carefully and place the vials on my desk,” the Potions Master drawled, while returning to the essays he was correcting.  
  
He didn’t look up again until a soft clinking sound announced the arrival of the vials. Then he stood again, grabbed a couple of spoons from the cupboard behind his desk, and stalked towards the boys. They shrunk back against the wall and looked quite like scared puppies who expected to be hit with the newspaper. Snape had to fight hard to beat back a malicious grin. Oh, this was gonna be fun!  
  
Draco, who was familiar with the workings of his godfather’s mind, had already resigned to his fate, but of course the Potter brat could be counted upon to try and worm his way out of any sticky situations.  
  
“Sir, we worked together on the potion and it went okay, didn’t it? So we don’t need to take the potion, right? I mean...”   
  
He trailed off at the look on his teacher’s face. It was a truly quelling glare and Snape made sure to narrow his eyes just enough to give him that extra mean streak.  
  
Snape poured two equal measures out and handed the spoons to the boys. When they just stood there silently, looking at the potion like it was the most potent poison, he huffed in annoyance and cleared his throat in a dangerous way.  
  
“Drink!” he ordered.  
  
Draco immediately swallowed his mouthful and after a last resigned sigh, Potter copied the motion. Snape was observing them both closely, waiting for the effects. In a matter of minutes, they should start feeling less hostile towards each other and then slowly start actually seeing good qualities in the other. Snape knew it was an artificial reaction, but hopefully they’d remember some of the things afterwards when the potion wore off.  
  
The first change he was aware of was a slight widening of Draco’s eyes and almost right after, Potter clenched his fists. Draco’s back was ramrod straight and all his muscles were tensed. Potter seemed equally tense and Snape frowned. He’d never seen anyone fighting the Friendship Potion like this. Normally, people would start feeling pleasantly relaxed around the other recipient of the potion and develop - though fake - real feelings of friendship. Never before had he seen the drinkers tense up like this. Was the animosity between Draco and Potter so strong that it could override the effects of the potion?  
  
Exasperated, Snape pulled a chair up close to the boys and sat down, directing each boy to a chair on opposite sides of him, though a bit in front, so they faced each other with their teacher right beside them. If they managed to fight free of the potion’s grip, he would be there to avert any disasters.  
  
With a crooked, and alright, slightly evil, smile, he leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest.  
  
“Now boys, I don’t have all night. Kiss and make up, would you?”  
  
He knew the words were bound to upset them, but he simply couldn’t help himself from taunting, just a little. Later, he would thump himself over the head with his heaviest book for that stupidity.  
  
Potter clenched his jaw and gripped the seat of his chair so tightly that his knuckles were white. Draco looked like his own body was trying to force him forwards, and in turn leaned his head as far back as he could. It all made quite a funny picture, Snape thought.  
  
He had just decided to give them an actual, physical push, when Potter emitted a strangled noise in his throat. Draco’s head snapped up and forwards, and before Snape was even aware of what was about to happen - how could he have predicted _that_ anyway? - his godson launched across his lap and scrambled frantically towards Potter, managing to give Snape a knee to the groin in the process.  
  
Doubled over in pain, eyes watering, Snape saw a sight he had never in his life thought he’d behold. Harry _bloody_ Potter, savior-to-be, snogging the living daylights out of Draco effing _Malfoy!_  
  
Snape, with his hand still cradling his smarting pride, gaped at the display in front of him. What the hell had happened? He scrambled in his brain for an explanation and went over all the ingredients in his head. Nothing he’d provided could be used to make an aphrodisiac, and even if he had, no aphrodisiacs were blue! How on earth had this happened?  
  
He made an effort to stand up and hobbled over to his desk to get out of range of knees and - Merlin forbid - elbows. Draco and Potter were a mess of tangled limbs at this point and slurping kissing noises echoed in Snape’s lab. After a few moments of stunned shock, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the offensive brats.  
  
They didn’t even pause for half a second. Potter was beneath Draco now, both of them sprawled on the floor. The potions master flinched when Potter hitched a leg around Draco’s waist and moaned while thrusting his hips up. Oh dear Merlin, this could _not_ be happening!  
  
“Potter, you will desist with those inappropriate shenanigans right this instant!” he roared.  
  
No reaction whatsoever.  
  
Snape started panicking when Draco brought a hand in between himself and Potter and obviously started rubbing Potter through his pants. Potter, as it turned out, approved something fierce and gasped and cried out.  
  
With enormous effort, Snape fought down the urge to run screaming in circles and ran to fetch his wand from his desk. He scrambled back towards the boys, now actively rutting against each other, and projected a stream of water that hit Draco’s back and cascaded down over them. Potter let Draco’s mouth go for a second to gulp some fresh air but then proceeded to dive right back in and there was no further reaction to his interference.  
  
While gripping his hair in a fit of desperation with one hand, Snape swished his wand furiously with the other.  
  
 _“Finite Incantatem!”_  
  
Nothing.  
  
He was now officially at his wit’s end. There had never been a need to make an antidote to the Friendship Potion, seeing as it normally never did any kind of damage. Not that this could be considered damage, unless one counted the nightmares Snape was sure he’d suffer from for months, if not years. He decided to make a try at an antidote and feeling better, like he always did when he had a clear course of action, he stalked to his work station and started sorting through his ingredients cupboard.   
  
He was roused from his musings on what particular substance would counteract the chamomile when a high pitched keening sounded behind him. He whipped around, only to find himself faced with another sight he’d probably never forget.  
  
Draco was sitting astride Potter without his shirt on, pale chest almost luminescent in the dim light. Snape failed to see what had caused the noises at first, but then he became aware of a swift movement and then his eyes damn near rolled out of his head. Potter had managed to unfasten Draco’s trousers and were in the process of freeing his godson’s erection from the tight green boxers visible where the trousers were opened and pushed aside. Draco was the one making the keening noises and while Snape watched, Potter looked admiringly at the sight of Draco’s pale, long cock.  
  
Thinking he might actually faint if he kept looking, Snape turned back to his attempt at an antidote and soldiered on bravely. If he’d kept looking, he would have seen Potter taking Draco’s cock in hand and guiding the blond up on his knees, legs on either side of Harry’s head, so he could swallow the whole length of Draco’s cock down.  
  
This brought on a wave of cries, even higher pitched than the previous ones and Snape fought valiantly to keep his eyes averted. Many years working with dim witted children in close contact with potentially explosive materials had honed his senses to react instantly to any sort of alarming cries. In this situation, however, his instincts were very inconvenient. Snape hunched his shoulders and kept at it.  
  
Behind the Potions Master, Potter was sucking enthusiastically, twirling his tongue in ways that made Draco babble in a most undignified manner. Snape was sure that if this ever reached Lucius, he’d be gutted with a dull knife before being hung naked upside down in the middle of Diagon Alley for all to see.  
  
 _“Fuck,_ Potter!”  
  
The rasping voice belonged to his godson and Snape was sure he’d never ever heard that awed tone of voice uttered from any Malfoy’s lips. It shocked him so much that he forgot himself and turned around to see what had prompted the statement. _That_ was a big mistake!  
  
Draco was supporting himself on shaking arms, his hips pumping into the eager mouth of Potter, who hummed and moaned around the Slytherin’s cock like it was the best tasting lollipop he’d ever had. Snape felt faintly sick at the sight, and that was before he noticed that two of Potter’s fingers had somehow found their way into Draco’s arse crack and were working their way towards... oh, _hell no!_ He was so _not_ watching this! It was sort of like watching a son having sex. Very, very weird, not to mention creepy!  
  
Turning away abruptly, the Potions Master scrambled to turn down the flames below his cauldron, which was boiling merrily in his inattention. He cursed loudly - no need to be quiet after all - and quickly dropped a few newt eyes in the concoction.  
  
Snape had never worked so fast; this was the closest to a genuine panic attack he’d ever been. He drummed his fingers impatiently every time he had to let the potion breathe. Whenever he was not actively stirring or chopping, he had difficulty blocking out the insistent noises from the boys on his floor.  
  
Just as he prepared to drop a few sprigs of lavender into his cauldron, the noise suddenly stopped. Snape froze in place. Had the potion worn off? Was it over? He was reluctant to look back, but in the end he decided that he needed to know and sneaked a quick look over his shoulder. It was another monumental lapse in judgement, as it turned out.  
  
Draco was on his stomach on the floor with the Potter brat kneeling between his legs. Potter’s hands had a firm grip on each of Draco’s arse cheeks and had pulled them apart. What shocked Snape the most though, was the fact that Gryffindor’s Golden Boy was licking up and down his godson’s arse crack with an expression like he’s shoved his face in a large bowl of Fortescue’s ice cream and not... _there!_  
  
The reason for the sudden silence appeared to be that Draco couldn’t find any sounds to go with the sensations he was currently experiencing. His face was contorted in a silent scream, but it didn’t seem to be caused by him being uncomfortable. Quite the opposite, in fact. The blond was rolling his hips in an instinctive manner and simultaneously trying to push his arse up to get more of the wet tongue still laving attention to his arsehole.  
  
The Potions Master was sure his face resembled a tomato in color at this point and he was aware of a twitch beginning around his left eye.  
  
Suddenly, Draco seemed to find his voice again.  
  
“Ohmygod! Shit... Fucking _fuck!_ Potter, I want your cock in me now!”  
  
Snape blanched. That was it! With a very unmanly squeal, Snape stormed out of the door, robes flapping behind him furiously.  
______________________________________________________________  
  
Following Snape’s flight, the Slytherin girls’ snooping and subsequent squealing and retreat, the story spread through Hogwarts like wildfire. It seemed to be all everyone talked about; even the ghosts could be heard discussing the matter in scandalized tones.  
  
It took several hours before the elusive Potions Master reappeared in the castle and he promptly shut himself in his chambers and did not show up for dinner in the Great Hall. If he had, he’d have witnessed a scene that had the immediate effect he’d always wished for - shutting all the moronic dunderheads up effectively and simultaneously: Draco Malfoy appeared in the Great Hall, dragging one Harry Potter along by his hand and proceeded to drop unceremoniously onto the bench along the Slytherin table.  
  
It took a solid ten minutes before the awed silence broke and whispers erupted all over, waving back and forth and evolving into a frantic hissing in several places.  
  
Meanwhile, the two boys it all revolved around seemed oblivious to the commotion they’d caused. The story that had reached all beings with ears, and even some without, had of course included the fact that the _incident_ had occurred in the Potions classroom, and as such, a lot of people thought it likely that this curious behavior had to be potion induced. The suspicious absence of the Potions Master seemed to cement this notion.  
  
All of Hogwarts inhabitants watched with something akin to absolute horror as the pale, blond Slytherin started hand feeding the Gryffindor seeker. The fact that the latter seemed to thoroughly enjoy said ministrations made a few hopeful Gryffindor girls sigh dejectedly into their pumpkin juice.  
  
When the desserts appeared, several Slytherins had already scooted away from the increasingly erotic display of Malfoy feeding Potter. It probably had something to do with the finger licking and moaning, which really wasn’t in any way appropriate for activities in public.  
  
The appearance of ice cream, chocolate sauce, and whipped cream turned out to be very upsetting for the people watching the Slytherin table. Evidently, Malfoy thought that one Harry Potter’s lips tasted absolutely delicious with chocolate sauce and likewise, Potter appeared to enjoy whipped cream immensely when licked off Malfoy-fingers.  
  
Halfway through dessert, half of Slytherin House had vacated their table in favor of squashing in between Ravenclaws, determinedly turning their backs on the display of their seeker. The rest were studiously ignoring the more and more sloppy and noisy scene unfurling before them.  
  
It was with a sigh of relief, and a little disappointment in some cases, that the students and teachers in the Great Hall watched the two boys exit, stumbling along, kissing and groping. No one was in any doubt as to what would happen next.  
________________________________________________________________  
  
The next morning, Snape made his way to breakfast with a nervous twitch and sweating palms. He’d somehow caused two fifteen year old boys to act like damn cats in heat and he was sure there’d be hell to pay. Frankly, he was surprised he hadn’t yet been gifted with a visit from a very enraged Headmaster. He had expected as much, at the very least.  
  
He kept his head down upon entering the Great Hall and didn’t look up until seated. He could only hope that at least Albus would deign to hold off on his scolding until they were in private. As it was, he only got a curt _‘Good morning’_ from McGonagall and a grumble from the groundskeeper, who seemed to revert to truly primitive every morning until after he’d ingested a few cups of very strong coffee.  
  
After a few minutes, the Potions Master braved a brief look towards the Headmaster. The old man was wearing a spectacularly bright set of periwinkle robes and his eyes were twinkling like he’d just received several pounds of lemon drops. Very weird indeed. Turning his head back towards his plate, he noticed a blond streak standing out amongst a flock of redheads at the Gryffindor table. Snape’s eyes snapped up and fixed on the group of students. Then, he promptly choked on his tea, consequently spraying Earl Grey all over his breakfast plate.  
  
Draco Malfoy, the ultimate Slytherin, his godson, son of Lucius bloody Malfoy, previously nemesis of the Golden Boy Savior, sat wedged between countless Weasleys, without being bound and gagged! Granted, he didn’t exactly look happy about it, more like resigned, but what really got Snape’s boxers in a twist was the fact that the blond was more or less seated in the lap of the Potter brat. Potter’s arms were snaked around Draco’s waist and the blond was chatting with the insufferable know-it-all Granger, while stuffing a toast into the mouth of the Golden Boy like it was what he’d done every day for forever.  
  
The scene was so surreal that the Potions Master had to blink a few times to be sure he wasn’t just seeing things. When no amount of blinking helped, he pinched his arm to check if he was really awake. Ouch. Apparently so.  
  
A chuckle to his right brought Snape out of his budding panic attack and he turned to see the Headmaster twinkling at him.  
  
“Oh it’s quite real, Severus my boy. I certainly didn’t expect this to happen, but things do have a way of popping through the surface at unlikely times, eh?”  
  
Snape was still paralyzed.  
  
“I... but... they...” he tried.  
  
“Now now, my dear boy, I must say I’m surprised you didn’t know about this pitfall. This is the result of administering the Friendship Potion to two individuals, who are secretly repressing strong feelings towards each other. Granted, even I didn’t know this was what was hiding at the bottom of their mutual animosity, so I wouldn’t expect you to have known. My skills of perception are, pardon me for blowing my own horn so to speak, quite well developed, after all. But I must say, I quite enjoy this turn of events.”  
  
Snape didn’t know if he should be grateful or horrified.   
  
“So what you’re saying, Headmaster, is that the potion I made them ingest yesterday merely forced them to act on something they already felt? I didn’t somehow cause this... this... _abominable_ behavior?”  
  
“Not at all, Severus. I sincerely doubt even your love potions would be this potent. It’s over twelve hours after ingestion and they are acting much the same as yesterday, I dare say. The, um... behavior of Mister Malfoy and Mister Potter is most assuredly not your doing. Nor do I, in fact, find it abominable. This might very well be the salvation of your dear godson,” the Headmaster beamed at Snape.  
  
Snape scowled into his cup and went about getting a refill while flicking his wand to clear up the tea spatters he’d covered the table in.  
  
_________________________________________________________________  
  
The vague hope the Potions Master had carried was extinguished the following week when the fifth year Gryffindors and Slytherins filed in for their lesson. Potter was just as closely attached to his godson as he’d been that day at breakfast and Weasley and Granger followed closely behind, casting overbearing glances towards the two entwined boys.  
  
Snape had hoped that at least the Weasel would have thrown a fit and demanded that Potter should kick Draco out and dump him like yesterday’s rubbish. Alas, no such tantrum had been forthcoming and the trio simply seemed to have expanded into a quartet without much trouble.  
  
Ah well, at least he didn’t have to put up with quite the same amount of hissy fits in his lessons and Draco seemed to have somehow inspired a slight interest for Potions in the Potter brat, which was most welcome. And even though the sight of his godson with Potter still evoked gruelling, horrible mental images, it had all turned out for the better in the end. At least Draco would avoid going the way of his father and godfather before him with regards to one Dark Lord, and even though he wasn’t allowed to say as much, this pleased the Potions Master to no end.


End file.
